TripAdvisor did not mislead us; the pension had all three. It was also quiet - from 8am when the disco next door closed until 11am when the Hair of the Dog, or whatever the olde English pubbe over the road was called, opened.
Deciding to stretch our legs, we hiked out of the village and on to a forest track. After 400m we turned on to an old road - in this part of the world, who knows how old? - that wound up hill and down through a valley, through scrub and scree, past pine and pomegranate and fig, pausing for drinks breaks whenever the view of another bay or island was impossible to pass up. Or by.
Climbing through olive groves, splashing chilled water from an ancient stone trough in 30C-plus heat, after 90 minutes we came to Kayakoy. Even a real estate agent would struggle to describe this as anything but "one of the world's spookiest ghost towns".
People have lived here for 5000 years but after the past century the town at the head of a valley running down to flatlands of fruit farms, with 500 crumbling stone houses and two churches, is the silent witness to one of the 20th century's crueller stories.
Kayakoy was a thriving community: schools, churches, shops, and home to 6500 people of Greek descent who worshipped in two Orthodox churches.
The village of Kayakoy, southwest Turkey. Photo / Ewan McDonald
Life was similarly good for the native Turks in the neighbouring village just down the valley. Relations between the Greeks and Turks - and after several centuries there were plenty of those - were harmonious.
Until 1923. The fallout from World War I, the end of the Ottoman Empire and the Greco-Turkish war led to what is diplomatically known as the "Population Exchange".
Some 1.5 million Greek Christians were forced to nearby harbours and deported to the "homeland" they had left centuries before: across the Mediterranean, the reverse happened to 350,000 Muslim Turks.
Overnight, Kayakoy was abandoned. In 1957, an earthquake finished it off. Snakes, dragonflies and tortoises are almost its only residents today.
And birds. Louis de Bernieres chronicled the story in his 2004 epic Birds Without Wings, recalling later: "I went to southwest Turkey and there's a ghost town there. It used to be a mixed community, as described in the book more or less, and they obviously had a wonderful way of life, quite sophisticated. An earthquake finally destroyed the town in the 50s, but it really started to die when the Christian population was deported. The town, called Eskibahce in the book, will be recognisable to those who know Turkey, but I'm not going to go round telling people."
The near-sacred ruins of a shared, eviscerated history are part of a supposedly protected archaeological site, baptised a Peace and Friendship City by Unesco, that draws travellers.
Now, the Culture Ministry plans to hock off part of the historic town to investors. The "restoration project" will include a hotel and tourist facilities covering one-third of the site.
The project is expected to cost $16.5 million and two companies have expressed interest in an auction on October 23, for the right to rent Kayakoy. Local officials say it will turn the ghost town into an "international brand".
Critics claim the town, like so many around here, will lose its authenticity and originality at the hands of investors. Legal experts point out local and national government do not have a plan for its protection.
Outside the larger of two Orthodox churches in this unique, haunting relic of history is a tiny cemetery. Just a few graves for the last residents of Kayakoy to turn in.
